


The Dream

by dragonofdispair



Series: Unrelated Prompt Responses [64]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Gen, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 04:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13919229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: Snippet: Prowl dreams





	The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I started another fairytale retelling, wrote myself into a corner, scrapped it, and started over. But this scene didn't _quite_ repeat the same way in the revised version, but I like it. So I'm posting it as it's own thing.

Prowl took the opportunity to sneak back to his own room and hide under the bed. Hopefully Sire would forget all about his three hatchlings for the rest of the night.  Cat -- the cybercat didn’t have a name so Prowl just called it Cat -- crawled under the bed with Prowl and meowed. Prowl fell asleep cuddling it. 

That night was the first night he’d had The Dream. A gentle mech, with a lilting voice, completely unlike his Sire’s harsh one, held him close and safe. “That was a very clever trick you played on your creator earlier.” Claws, so very different Sire’s blunt fingers stroked over Prowl’s soft hatchling plating. 

Prowl was not too young -- his third instar! -- to know what claws on a mech meant. “Are you going to have eggs?” 

Fortunately the stranger seemed amused, rather than angered (like Sire would have been), by the hatchling’s impertinent question. “No, you clever little thing, I don’t have any eggs.”

“Good.” Prowl thought (with the selfishness of a child) it would be such a shame to give up this stranger’s comfort when he started paying more attention to his own eggs than to Prowl. It was nice to be held, and stroked, and called clever, even if it was by a stranger.

Which seemed to amuse the stranger even further. “Not going to ask my name, little one?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a fairy.” After Sire’s story earlier, it only seemed obvious that a mysterious stranger would be a fey creature. “You’ll only lie about it.”

“Will I?”

“Of course.”

The stranger laughed and held Prowl, stroking his clawed fingers over the hatchling’s plating. “You’re probably right.”

Prowl was smug, as only a hatchling could be smug, as he held onto the stranger, soaking in the warmth of his frame.


End file.
